Sidney Crosby slashed Ottawa defenseman Marc Methot across the hands, mangling his left pinky. It had an unfortunate result, but it’s the sort of slash that happens all the time in the NHL.
It was an uncalled two-minute penalty, nothing more.
But don’t tell that to Eugene Melnyk, Ottawa’s blowhard owner.
“[Crosby] is just a whiner beyond belief,” said Melnyk. “You do this kind of stuff…I don’t care who you are in the league, I don’t care if you’re the No. 1 player in the league…you should sit out a long time.”
Melnyk is calling for a 10-game suspension. But the NHL plans no review, let alone discipline.
Hey, Eugene: If you want a spare finger, I got just the finger for you.
I don’t care about Methot’s finger. No big deal. He’s got nine more. He can use the other hand to pinky-swear when he lies to strippers.
Crosby has lost more teeth than one of the tweakers on “Breaking Bad.” He missed over a year of his career when he absorbed a cheap shot to the melon. His dome regularly gets used for a piñata. A playoff date with Brandon Dubinsky beckons, which means cross-checks to the neck and cranium.
Now some guy who has never sold a ticket in his life gets his finger broken, and it’s the Spanish Inquisition.
That’s reactionary dipped in stupid, and another example of hockey sticking up for the dusters while villainizing the stars (Crosby in particular).
A goon is seen as a noble savage. He’s a funny guy. The team loves him. Heck, let’s put him in the All-Star Game.
But when the best player in the league slashes somebody: “Oh, no, you’re not supposed to do that! Shame on you!”
Hockey, once again, serves as its own worst enemy.